The Days of Snow and Ice
by PoisonBones
Summary: Yakone wasn't always cold and heartless to his son's, in fact he loved him very much. A series of oneshots about the life of Noatak and Tarrlok, growing up with their parents in the Northern Water Tribe.
1. Good

Despite still being one of Republic City's most wanted criminals in due of sentence, Yakone was not a light sleeper.

His wife, Sura, had made several rather truthful prods about it within the expanse of their marriage, telling him that he slept sounder than a baby polar bear dog with a full stomach. He never believed her.

Even as the years pressed on, she still made the playful tease all the while, and he never believed her. Not even when she had to smack him quite forcefully on the nose, in order to pull him out of slumber to tell him that their first child was coming. He had always been like that he supposed, he had never really had need to be a light sleeper, even when he had half the police force and the Avatar on his case. But even though he wasn't a light sleeper, he considered himself quite aware of his surroundings, even in slumber.

Which is why he was sickeningly surprised to wake one night to find his and wife's bed raided by two intruders.

Two _little_ intruders.

Yakone had heard that it was quite common for small children to take comfort in their parent's presence; naturally, Yakone remembered his own fondness of his mother's presence as a child. But what he hadn't expected was for the child to become fond of their parents bed as well, now he had never done _that_ as a child. Which was why he was shocked slightly to find both of his sons snuggled in bed with him and his wife.

Four year old Tarrlok had chosen to lie in between himself and Sura; whereas seven year old Noatak had lain on the bed beside him, nearly hanging off the edge. Yakone reached out a hand in an attempt to pull the boy into a more safe position, but grimaced slightly as the gesture instead made him curl into his father's side, laying an arm across his midsection in a half-hug. Yakone breathed heavily through his nose, which elicited a giggle from beside him.

Yakone turned to find Sura wide awake beside him, a fond hand laying on Tarrlok's head, a grin playing on her lips. Yakone frowned.

"What is so amusing?" He whispered.

Her grin broadened, "Your discontent to be condemned to such cuddling." She whispered back

"Who said I was condemned? I could easily wake them and send them back to their own rooms." He replied. It was her turn to frown, but amusement was still lingering behind the disapproving look.

"I will not allow you to perform such an act. They are at peace, leave them be Tuma." Yakone grinned a little. 'Tuma' Was the name he had started going by when he arrived at the pole. He'd figured he'd change it often, as not to be recognized by someone who had helped him publicly, but when he had arrived here and met Sura the name had stuck.

"I never said I'd carry it out." He said, with a fake little pout, "However I must say I'm a bit surprised Noatak had sunk so low."

Sura raised her chin a little as Tarrlok's head shifted beneath hers, "I'll have you know, Tarrlok came first. Noatak got up for some water, and I'm guessing he got a little jealous when he saw."

Noatak hummed a little, unconsciously responding to his name. Yakone brushed a stray strand from his fore head and wrapped his arm a little protectively around his eldest's shoulders.

"Still, you think he would have out grown this by now."

"I like it." Sura said, gently touching his cheek, "At least he still finds us a consolation. Just think, maybe by coddling them we can avoid the defiant teenage years."

Yakone snorted slightly, leaning into her warm hand, "Yeah right."

"A little hope never hurt anyone, even when the hope is fueled by a ludicrous proposition." A small smile had formed Sura's lips, showing contentment.

"Mm," He hummed, "Well then I suppose I will let you suffer the consequences of that hope."

"I'm glad." She leaned forward over Tarrlok's little form and kissed him softly on the lips. He returned it with passion. He would have liked nothing more than to take her right then, but they were currently sharing a bed with two innocents. Sensing the growing urge, she pulled back, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Not with the kids." He groaned, she grinned.

"I'm afraid the only intimacy you will be experiencing tonight is familial."

He pouted at her and Sura rolled her eyes. She ran a hand down Tarrlok's little face, before reaching across and doing the same to Noatak. She repeated the motion to her husband's face.

"We should get some sleep. You promised you'd take the boys fishing tomorrow." He nodded, pressed one more small kiss against her forehead, and looked back up to the ceiling. He wasn't even the slightest bit tired, so he settled for his thoughts.

Noatak was seven years old, the age that most water benders were discovered. Yakone had not felt the urge to bend in a long time, having come to terms with the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't going to do it. He hadn't been able to keep hope out of his heart for Noatak and Tarrlok, though he was increasingly concerned about how, if either of them did turn out to be benders, he would reveal his true identity. He could wait until they were older, but bending developed the most when they were young, and it was hard to teach an old dog new tricks. Yakone had decided upon Noatak's birth that, despite his own loss, he would find a way to teach his son's blood bending if they were benders. But he would not tell them to use it to harm like he had. He wanted his son's to have a better life than he did, for his past life was not a good one.

He looked down at his two sons, and the now asleep form of his wife. This was a good life. He had gotten away from crime and made himself a good life. There was a strange sense of pride as Yakone thought that. Good, such a funny word good was, it could be used to so many concepts. Yakone decided that he liked this concept, and he repeated it to himself until he fell asleep.

This is a good life. I have a good life.

My son's lives will be good too.

 **I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM. I imagine that Yakone was a relatively loving father to both Tarrlok and Noatak, but when he discovered that they were both benders his cold personality returned. Please read and review, feedback makes me smile like this :D  
-PoisonBones**


	2. Trinkets Part 1

**The next piece of this, short and sweet.  
-PoisonBones**

It was a rare occasion that Yakone would travel into the big city, but every time he did it was a time to remember.

He brought gifts back, ones they didn't make in their little village, ranging from small bone made soldiers to a fine wooden picture frame in which Sura kept a family portrait. The boys had become accustomed to receiving these gifts the moment he returned, so it wasn't anything new to have seven and four year old stepping on their fathers feet the moment he walked through the door.

Yakone put a hand on each of his son's heads and redirected them towards the kitchen table as he closed the door. The boys climbed onto the steady wicker chairs, bouncing with excitement as their father set his heavy travel pack down on the table. He reached to open it. Yakone moved slowly, taking his sweet time, enjoying the looks of anticipation and eagerness on their little faces. He stuck a hand into the pack and removed a square piece of dark purple cloth, laying it out on the table. The boys frowned. It was, of course, not a toy. It was sewing cloth for Sura, so that she could make a new parka for Noatak's next birthday.

The frowns vanished off the boys faces, the eagerness returning, when Yakone reach in again. But they had the same reaction when what he removed was a spool of light blue thread instead of a toy. Unable to be disappointed a third time, Noatak gave his father the sternest look a seven year old could produce. He did a surprisingly good job.

With a chuckle, Yakone reached in and removed the objects the boys had been waiting for. They both jumped at them, snatching them from his hands. Noise began to fill the room as Tarrlok twirled his blue rattle drum, but Noatak just frowned at his, and Yakone smiled. In truth, he didn't even know what it was called, but a kind woman at the counter had put it in his bag for no charge, after having showed him how to work it. It was a small wooden box, about the size of an adult's palm, and it was covered in little levers, only one sticking up. When you pushed one lever down, another would pop up, and so on until you opened it. In the box, there was a small compartment, where someone could stick a prize for the player. The kind woman at the counter had filled Noatak's box with a few pieces of candied fruit, having made sure it was alright with him of course.

Yakone bent down to show Noatak how to work it, but it seemed the boy had managed to figure it out on his own, and he was pushing down each lever carefully. He looked back at the table. His pack was still full, and he had a gift for Sura as well. He looked to Tarrlok, who was twirling the beads on the end of the string around.

"Boys, where's your mother?" Noatak answered him, but didn't look up from his toy.

"She's in the kitchen, doing the dishes." Yakone reached into his pack and removed the gift from the bottom of the bag. Hiding it behind his back, he stepped into the kitchen. Sura stood, in her tunic and leggings, brown hair thrown up into a messy bun instead of its normal braids, scrubbing furiously at a dish. He took a moment to admire her. Even after two children, her hips were still lean and proper, her waist still thin. Given that age had caused certain appendages to drop a bit, Sura was still one of the most beautiful woman Yakone had ever laid eyes on, not only in looks but personality as well. She was a warm and caring, but the minute someone was to lay a hand to those she loved she would go berserk. And she loved surprises, so he did just that as often as possible.

Yakone crept up behind her, breathing gently down her neck. She looked back a little, smiling widely.

"Hey, you're back." She said happily, wiping her hands on a towel, "Did the boys enjoy their treats?"

He smiled, "As always. I got something for you too."

"Is that so? Well, let's see it." Yakone pulled his gift out from behind him and held it out in front of her.

"Oh Tuma, it beautiful!" In Yakone's hands was a string of pearls. They were not extravagant, they were the size of raindrops, but they were just as elegant. Subtle, just like Sura. She reached out a hand gently touched them, before meeting his gaze.

"Will you put it on me?" He nodded, and she turned around. He wrapped it around her neck, easily closing the simple clasp. She touched them gently again, looking in the mirror opposite of the wash basin.

"Tuma they are so lovely." She said.

"Just like you." He replied. She leaned in and wrapped her hands around his neck.

"You're such a flirt." He closed the space between them, kissing her on the lips lovingly.

"Hey mo- _ewwwww!"_ Sura ripped her lips away from his, throwing her head back in laughter. Tarrlok scrambled out of the room, yelling about how disgusting grownups were.

Some things never change.


	3. Bad Words

Naruk laughed out loud at his wife's smart comment. Yakone grunted.

"I didn't come here to joke, Naruk. What of my offer?"

"Your offer?" Naruk raised an eyebrow, "Tuma you aren't a merchant, you're not even a _trader._ Why do you want passage to Republic City?"

Yakone sighed. He was sitting in an open sailors paddock in town, the main square bustling with people in the morning rush, making it quite easy for children to be lost or separated from their respective guardian. He gazed across quickly, a small feeling of relief meeting his senses when he saw Tarrlok and Noatak across the road, rolling hoops with a stick.

"It's not for me," Yakone said, turning back to the task at hand, "It's for my wife, Sura. She makes the finest clothing for miles, she knows people in the department there, she wants to sell some of her work."

Naruk nodded, "I can respect that, but what do I get out of it?"

"I told you, that's up to Sura."

Naruk scoffed, "Leaving the important things to the woman huh? I'm not taking no woman's words, I need yours."

Yakone grit his teeth, trying to control his anger before turning to face him, glaring at the sailor as if he were the world's problem instead of just his, "Fine, name your price and I'll run it by the wife."

Naruk rolled his tongue around in his mouth, considering the proposition and attempting to think of a wealthy yet non ridiculous price. He looked out onto the street, as if it held the answers. And it did, and a grin spread over his face, revealing a long line of rotting, yellow teeth.

Naruk looked back at Yakone, "How old is that boy of yours, the older one?"

Yakone stepped forward, invading Naruk's personal space, "My son is not a bargaining chip."

"How old?"

Yakone grit his teeth again, relishing in the thought of punching Naruk in his rotted mouth. Through is teeth, he said, "Noatak is ten."

Naruk only grinned wider, "Old enough to work on a boat over seas, aye?"

Yakone grabbed the front of Naruk's parka, ""Listen you little-!"

"Dad!" Tarrlok came running into the paddock, looking frantic. Yakone whipped around, angry that his son was interrupting his business, but he stopped when he saw Tarrlok's face. A thick red line ran from the top of his son's left brow all the way back to his temple, surrounded by forming bruises. Blood leaked from the wound, dribbling down his cheek and making a red stain the size of a fist on his parka. It was fresh.

Yakone bent down and touched his son's forehead, making him wince, "What happened?"

"Dad!" Tarrlok grabbed his sleeve and began to pull him into the street, "C'mon we gotta hurry! He's gonna kill him!"

"What? Who?"

"Noatak!"

Tarrlok pulled Yakone into the road and pointed forward. In the middle of the street was a very large crowd, all cheering and hooting and whistling.

"Stay here, and don't touch that." Yakone ordered. He entered the crowd, elbowing and pushing his way forward until he stood at the front, able to see the cause of all the commotion. There, in the middle of the ring of people, was Noatak. He was straddling another boy, beating him in the face and chest with his fists while shouting a vast assortment of obscene profanity.

"Damn, rotten assed, motherfucking, shit eating, piss mouthed quim!" Those were only a few phrases that Yakone could pick out over the noise of the crowd. This had to stop, Noatak wasn't letting up, he was going to kill that boy, for reasons still unknown, but Yakone was sure it had something to do with Tarrlok's head.

Yakone rushed into the middle, wrapping two arms around Noatak's waist and lifting, but Noatak had a death grip on the boy, and lifting him meant dragging the boy with him as well, which the crowd found hilarious. He pried Noatak's fingers away from the boy's shirt, raising him high in the air.

"Get the hell off me! I'm gonna fucking kill the bastard!" Noatak yelled, flailing his arms and kicking the air, trying to twist out of his grasp. Yakone tightened his grip around his son's middle as best he could without getting hit in the face. The boy, who had been the victim and supposed stem of his sons rage, scrambled back. His nose was bleeding badly, the blood running all over him, his lip was split, and the rest of his face was puffy with what Yakone knew would be bruises come tomorrow. The boy jumped to his feet and ran through the crowd, sobbing with his hand pressed to his nose.

Yakone turned through the crowd as well, still holding onto Noatak. Grabbing Tarrlok's hand, he pulled them down a deserted street and set Noatak down, but kept a firm hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" He demanded. Noatak turned his head away. His nose was bloody. Yakone handed him a hanker chief and turned to Tarrlok, speaking in a softer tone, "What happened?"

"We were playing hoops," He said, covering his cut with his palm, "Then Quinto showed up and wanted my set, but when I told him no he took the stick and hit me with it."

Yakone nodded, "Okay. Stay here for a minute, I'll be right back."

Yakone stood and left the street, making his way back to the open paddock. Naruk raised his eyebrows and grinned crookedly as he approached. Yakone scowled, not in the mood to deal with the sailor's crooked games.

"I need your answer." He said, crossing his arms.

Naruk bobbed his head and looked down at the fish net he was holding, "Every shipment of yours I make, one of your kin comes with me, preferably the older boy, he'll be of more use."

"I told my son is not a bargaining chip."

"He's not being used as one; I'm doing you a favor. Teach the boy how to sail, put some hair on his chest."

"He's ten."

"Can never start too early." Yakone sighed.

"Alright," He said, "I'll ask him, and run it by the wife. I'll bring you my answer by the end of the week."

Naruk nodded, dropping the fish net onto the short camping table in front of him, "That'll do, Tuma. Be on your way, and put some ice on the little ones head, that shit's gonna bruise bad and hurt like hell, he might wanna be numb."

"Fine." Yakone waved, and turned around and left. Retrieving his sons from the street, he began to walk home. They didn't live too far from the village, but it was a fair walk. Noatak had given the hanker chief to Tarrlok, and the boy had it pressed to his forehead. Yakone took the old sailors advice and made him press a handful of snow to it. Sura was going to freak.

He was right, to some degree. The minute Tarrlok removed his hand from his head she had set a pot of poppy tea on and began to clean and bandage his forehead. Noatak had been silent for the entire journey, only speaking when they entered the house and he removed his parka.

"I'll wait out back."

Sura handed him the sealskin lash with a grim face. He accepted it with a mutual expression and went outside. When Noatak saw him coming, he straightened. Turning to face the side of the house, he spread his feet shoulder width apart, and braced himself on the wall with his hands. Yakone stepped up to the left of him. Noatak nodded, telling him he was ready.

The lash made a popping sound when it met Noatak's lower back, colliding with his clothing harshly. Noatak did not jump, too practiced with the exercise to do so, but Yakone saw his jaw tighten. He brought the lash back down on his lower back. He jumped that time, his shoulders shooting up to his ears, his face contorted in pain. Two was enough. Yakone lowered the lash and put a hand on his shoulder. He removed his hands from the wall, and he led him inside.

Sura took the lash from his grip and shoved a cup of poppy tea into Noatak's hands. Noatak took his cup over to the table, where Tarrlok sat with his own drink, a white bandage on his face.

Sura turned to the table, "Boys, finish your tea and lay down, your father and I need some time to talk."

They both drained their cups and headed into their bedroom, closing the door. Sura dropped the lash onto the counter and looked at him.

"Tarrlok told me what happened. Did he do it right?" She asked. I frowned.

"Did who do what right?"

"Noatak, did he beat the kid proper?" I chuckled.

"That's your concern? I think you should be more worried with what he said."

Sura laughed, "Tarrlok said that he used some profanity."

"Care if I recite?" Yakone asked sweetly, slipping off his boots and parka.

"Oh darling be careful," Sura said huskily, slipping her hands around his waist, resting her chin parallel to his chest and looking up at him, "I might like you talking dirty."

"You gonna wash my mouth out?"

"Depends what you mean."

"Well then," Yakone said, picking her up, "Please allow to brush up on my bad words.

Sura giggled as I carried her to the bedroom.


End file.
